Shwarma

Honestly,

I love my job. 

I go to work everyday, ready, happy, excited, and sometimes a little over tired. But that's besides the point. 

Ever since I could remember I've been drawn to little people, babies. I had a baby doll that I would take care of, make a bed for, and cry when my brother threw it on the ground. I thought it was real. And then friends of my parents would come over with children younger then me. I'd be fascinated with this little being. And i didn't understand that I was once, this small, this innocent, this smelly, or hungry...all....the...time. 

I grew up a little bit more. It was a gift like christmas when we got news that someone in our extended family was pregnant. That meant I had a little bundle of joy to play with in the near future. To observe. To sing to. To be a mommy's helper. I lived for it. I even, with out hesitation, volunteered to be the babysitter. I just assimilate into my natural role. Care giver. Leader. Babysitter. Fun cousin Shannon.

And now here I am after schooling. Part time day care teacher. And I love it. I don't think I'll ever truly get tired of my job. I don't think I'll ever not sit at the kids table for festivities, gatherings, holidays etc. And I thought that maybe it would be a good thing to graduate to the adult table. But...honestly! 

Kids ARE just SOOOO much more FUN!!!

And then they go to bed...and I get to be an adult. Double bonus. Hard work always gets a great reward. 

So even now loving my job. I still have future goals in place. "Climb the ladder" is what I refer this to. Eventually I'd like to be a teachers assistant. In ontario, we have the full day learning program for kindergarden. And since I am an Early Childhood Educator. I could apply to this job. This means all the trappings of what teachers would get. And of course working with kids. 

But it's not the big picture. What I really want. Is to be a mom. 
I know I will be. But obviously not right now...


And I want to be a mom. Mainly, because of all the Mom's in my life. They're all amazing. Role models. Great wives. And their kids are so worthy of all the unconditional love they receive. Not just from the mom's but from the dad's too, obviously. 

My mom is the most amazing mom there is. And ya..damn right! I'm biased! But, if it weren't for her. I wouldn't be here. Or I would...but in a different body. I'd someone different. And frankly I love who I am. SO my mom is a freaking saint. She'd drop anything and does...just to be there for me. She knows when I want to talk by just reading my emotions and body language. As if it's written all over me in sharpie. And it could just be. She just...loves me. Unconditionally. Taught me how to love myself so I could love others. How to do my laundry. How to cook. How to look on a date etc. The woman is a shwarma. She's got everything you want. Looks 45...but is turning 60 next year. Don't tell her I said that! She'd kill me. Not...lit- you get my point! 

She took the time in my early years to actually play house with me. And now we could talk for hours. We laugh and laugh and laugh. We are crazy, weird, and do things only we'd get or think was funny. We sometimes dance in the kitchen together...to no music at all. Hold each other when we're crying. She's my best friend. Mom first. But now that i'm older...my BFFL. And it's because of her. And everything she has done, does, and will do. That I want kids. Hopefully they will get to know her the way I have. And know and see what I see. A truly remarkable, strong, big hearted, caring, and role model I look up to. 

She still looks at me like I'm her baby girl. 

Maybe....maybe....that look...was all I need. To why I love my job. 

so how about that shwarma? And please....don't think about my mom when you bite into it. Ah man I need to stop right here...before you think of any "your momma" jokes. Or the thought- ENOUGH. Bad imagery. I had to make you laugh...and myself...as I blow my nose into a tissue. And wipe my tears from all that. 


Go tell your mom. step mom. adopted mom. Any type of mom figure. look up into the sky or feel her around you. And just...say I love you. 

Then she'll probably think you want something. But if you say it, truly, and feel it when you say it. Then make a mellow dramatic exit. She'll feel it too. Give you the baby girl/ boy look I'm talking about. Give you memories. Give you hope for the future. I just hope you have a mom like I do. 

I'm sure glad she's mine and all mine though.